Brellitine Grever and The Sea of Gelled

by Ruhi Jain

  Shoving away her bowl since she had lost her appetite, Brell started to make her way to the kitchen to clean the dishes when Erene caught up with her.

  “I heard your conversation,” she said, as they swam together. “I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t resist listening, and I have something I want to show you.”

  “What’s that?”

  Erene wrung her hands and chittered nervously. “Oh… it’ll probably be useless to you unless you can sew. I just —”

  Brell laughed, interrupting her friend’s ramble. “Erene! I can sew. I’ve sewn at least twenty garments for Lisa, my c —,” she paused. “My close friend.”

  After quickly cleaning up the dishes, they went up to Erene’s room and went over to the second bed from the door. On the small bedside chest Erene had laid out cute little items like toy dolphins and glittering seashells. She pulled out two lengths of fabric from her drawer.

  “Here.” She spread them across the bed for Brell to see. One was pale violet and the other was jet black in colour. “I bought them.” When Brell opened her mouth to protest, she hurried to add, “They were cheap, so don’t worry! I got them for the Ball a year back, but then I received the pink dress and this has been laying in my drawer ever since. I don’t need it.” She grinned up at Brell, wriggling a little in her excitement. “You can take it!”

  Brell felt the smoothness of the purple one and the softness of the black one. An tear threatened to spill down her cheek. “You’re actually giving these to me?”

  “Of course Susan! You’re my friend right? And also,” she dipped her voice conspiratorially. “I prefer pink any day.”

  Brell felt slightly guilty. She was lying to Erene about everything: her name, her background, the reason she was in the castle, and so many other things. Erene was possibly the only reliable friend she had in the castle. And now…

  “Thank you, so much!” Brell wiped away the tear. “Really, thank you.”

  Erene smiled, the blinding grin of a happy child. “And here is a needle and a thread.”

  Brell took the fabrics and the stitching material. “Will you show me your dress?”

  Erene looked coyly at her, but Brell could see the teasing in her eyes. “No, you’ll see it tomorrow night at the Ball. I think it looks better when worn.”

  Dropping the fabric in Brell’s room, they went back to the hall to finish cleaning. Brell broke the companionable silence. “How long have you been here?” she asked, looking at the table.

  “I was brought here when I was three, at least that’s what everyone else tells me. So, like, a decade.”

  Even though Brell already knew that, her heart hurt for this sweet girl. “That’s a long time.”

  “I think I am the youngest here. The Fibbichi sisters are just a month older than me — you know, the triplets: Jane, Iyra, and Kless.”

  They finished up and moved to the next table. “Tell me about your family.”

  Erene scratched her nose. For a thirteen year old girl, she was pretty small.

  “I don’t really remember my family. But I do remember a bit of my parents’ faces. And someone else… my sister, I guess. I don’t know her name, but we must have been close because every memory I associate with her is happy.”

  “Do you remember what she looked like?” Brell asked.

  “Yes.” Erene glanced at her. “But why do you want to know?”

  Brell paused to think of a plausible excuse. “I guess it’s because I’ve always been interested in the mind. About the power of our mind to remember things.”

  “Well in that case, I remember her having eyes like mine, and skin like mine. She was beautiful. I think her hair was brown but —”

  “It’s black.” Brell corrected her before she could stop.

  Erene stopped. “How would you know?”

  Brell froze, staring into her innocent eyes. Erene had been nothing but nice to her and she had been lying all along. It was time she said the truth. “Look,” Brell sighed, trying to find words. “You probably won’t believe me, but I’ve met your sister.”

  Before Erene could react, Brell continued. “Her name is Meaken. I met her on my way here at a turtle race. When she found out that I was going here in search for a job, she told me to tell you that she loves you a lot and she misses you.”

  She continued to tell Erene the whole story of how Erene was taken to Meethe, the reason behind it and of course, Meaken’s reaction. But she carefully excluded the part of the rebel group, knowing that it was a secret.

  Erene was stone still for a few moments. The veins in her neck pulsed and she opened and closed her mouth several times in a row. “Meaken.” She finally murmured.

  Brell gently shook her shoulders. “Yes, her name’s Meaken. I think she is the one who sent you that pink dress. I mean, it only makes sense. Who else would?”

  “You’re not joking?”

  “Why would I?” Brell started cleaning the table again. “You have to help me clear this or we’ll never get done.”

  Erene picked her cloth and started to clean, but she still looked dazed. “Tell me more about her, please.” Her voice was edged with desperation. A girl who had never known anything in her life except the chores of the castle, dull green shirts and white aprons. A girl who didn’t realise she had family longing to meet her.

  So while they cleaned the hall, Brell told her all about Meaken; the way she looked and the expression on her face when she talked about Erene. The words kept pouring out.

  When she finished speaking, and paused to take a breath, she realised that they had cleaned the whole hall. Erene’s eyes were brimming with tears.

  “Thank you, Susan.” She said softly

  *

  She swam to her room and found that her bed and belongings had been restored. She dug around in the storage cupboard and found some scissors before heading back to the room and laying the fabrics on the bed. She scrutinised them at every angle and then set down to work. She had done this so many times before for Lisa that now it came naturally to her.

  The door swung open and Natalie came in and appraised Brell.

  “Oh! Sussy lussy has to make her own dress for the Ball. Poor sussy lussy!” She snickered.

  Brell ignored her. She kept on stitching and cutting, pleating and trimming. At last, after five solid hours of work, it was done. Holding it out in front of her, she inspected it. It was definitely her best piece, probably because she made it for herself. Such selfish indulgences weren’t things she was used to.

  The light purple sleeveless torso had a modest v-neck bordered in black with a black belt cinching the waist. The hem ended just above her knees and was in pleated light purple, with black trimming at the bottom.

  Brell huffed a sigh of relief and stretched her cramped fingers. She glanced at the clock and found it was past midnight. Tired, she folded her newly made dress, and placed it inside her pillow case to keep it safe from Natalie, who was fast sleep by now.

  Next morning, Figgie burst into the hall yelling. “All right, enough to eat, now let’s go!”

  Brell formed a line with everyone else. “What’s happening?” She asked Erene.

  “We’re getting new partners to work with. We change every week remember?”

  Brell had gotten used to Erene and being around her.

  “Name?” asked Figgie, without looking up.

  “Susan Morris.”

  “Hmm… You’re paired up with Georgia Lewitt.” Figgie dropped a sea shell into Brell’s open palm that listed:

  • Clean all rooms on the first floor, east.

  • Scrub the window panes of the Ballroom.

  • Clean the floor of the Breakfast Hall.

  • Air the plants in the Dining Hall.

  “They have separate halls for breakfast and dinner?” she wondered with disgust. “What a waste of space.”

  Georgia Lewitt was a tall, skinny, dainty girl of seventeen who was as sensitive as a baby bunny.

  �
�You’re the girl who got Natalie’s room, aren’t you?” She said the moment they met, twirling her straight blonde hair between her slender fingers. “I heard you stood up to her.” She looked Brell up and down. “They call you the Golden Fish. Rather bold of you. I say, too bold.”

  Brell sighed. “We do have a lot to do, so I suggest we go on.”

  “I know right? The work here is so hectic, my soft hands get calluses! Can you imagine how absolutely awful it is? And my nails! Don’t even begin with them. They get ruined by the end of the week, and I can barely stand it! Look at them! They were like, so pretty before, all pink, but now! Gosh!”

  Brell quickly deduced that Georgia was the girl who would go on chattering for hours without realizing how completely stupid she looked. Brell steered her towards the guest rooms of the east side and soon she realised Georgia was a slow worker. Actually, she wasn’t a worker at all. She would sit on a chair while Brell cleaned all the rooms, and in the end, she’d pretend that she had done the exact opposite.

  “But I helped you fold the bed sheets, didn’t I Susan?” Georgia would say, arranging some red flowers on the pillow; the only thing she knew how to do. Brell managed to turn away before rolling her eyes.

  All she wanted to do was to finish everything and escape so that she could practice her magic. She hoped she could use it to open that locked door on the west side of the castle to see if Timmy was there. Callum had told her that magic could create objects and move them if she channelled her energy in the right way. If she practiced enough, she would be able to unlock the door without creating any suspicious.

  “Georgia, you’ll have to show me the Ballroom. I’m new here.”

  “The Ballroom? Oh, we have to scrub the windows there right? It’s so beautiful! You will die when you see it!”

  “Let’s hope not,” muttered Brell.

  Georgia pushed open the heavy, ornate Ballroom door and Brell couldn’t control a loud gasp. The ballroom was breath-taking. Way bigger than any room she had ever seen, the floor was inlaid with rosewood like Erene had described. A beautiful fountain stood as the centrepiece of the room. The large edifice had three stone mermaids circled by stone dolphins, all spewing air from their mouths, their hands locked together. The massive circular glass dome ceiling was studded with numerous precious stones and tendrils of gold climbed up to the top of the dome. Large windows covered the sides of the room, separated by thin frames and bordered by blood red curtains. Sunlight streamed through the rows of large open windows to the left and the glass ceiling, hitting the gems on the dome and shining with such a dazzling light that her eyes began to hurt. In the middle, instead of another window there was a stained glass window of a mermaid swimming. There was a raised platform at the right hand side of the room, with two ramp ways that went up to it from both sides. The huge Ballroom was empty except for two mermaids who were cleaning the floor.

  “Why would they need us to clean the windows?” The crystal encrusted windows were already sparkling like polished diamonds.

  “Silly,” giggled George. “The Royal Family, and of course the Great Queen Zeldae, want the Ballroom to be in tip-top condition for the Ball.” When she said ‘tip-top’ she fluttered her fingers daintily.

  “Uh-huh.” Brell’s jaw was still hanging open.

  Each window was as big as the size of Aunt Lucy’s cottage, but since they were already so clean, it took less than a couple of hours to get them all clean. As she moved to exit the place, a jewel on the fountain caught her eye. It was like the one she had seen on Maude’s neck during the procession. So familiar. She frowned. Why?

  “You really should see the Ballroom when its full,” sighed Georgia. “And the dresses! Oh! They are so beautiful!” Brell got to work as Georgia wandered dreamily from statue to statue.

  *

  The layout of the castle reminded her of a fancy hotel, the kind she had seen once in a magazine. The Breakfast Hall had a twenty meter long table. It was so huge, Brell couldn’t see the other end of the table if she stood on one side. The plush chairs were so polished that she could see her reflection was aligned to perfection around the table; and a crystal chandelier twinkled as it hung above the centre of the table, as large as the fluffy white clouds she would see at the Cotswolds. Shining silverware and china dishes with painstakingly minute details were neatly arranged on a delicately woven white lace tablecloth. The walls were covered with fine red felt wallpaper and they were filled up with images of the castle and the gardens.

  The Dining Hall was a bit bigger and the walls were covered with pictures of different people. As one moved towards the left, the paintings kept getting more and more faded.

  One particularly old picture showed an elderly lady sitting on a red chair at an angle. The grey curls of her hair were pinned up in a high bun and she wore a white lace dress. Her face was devoid of happiness, and she stared at the camera as if someone had forced her to look at it, bearing a look of disdain. The wrinkles in her pale skin creased around two pretty black eyes and her thin lips were pressed firmly together as if she were regarding her artist with suspicion.

  “Who is she?” Brell asked.

  Georgia floated up to her. “Don’t you know? Her Royal Highness, Queen Caroline Hempt. She is Princess Lenny and Prince Callum’s, um, maternal grandmother. She is really ill nowadays. I mean, she’s 96! But her clothes collection …” Georgia to babbled on, but Brell’s mind trailed somewhere else.

  Now she knew how Callum felt, why he was always so serous and sad. His mother and father were controlled by Zeldae, his sister was almost twenty and soon she would be old enough for Zeldae to work her magic on her, and his own grandmother was dying! He managed to hide his pain so skilfully, as if his nonchalant face was something he had learnt to put on as habit. He seemed so calm, so much in control of himself, but she knew inside he must be screaming.

  “… and she just owned it!” finished George. Then she noticed Brell vacantly staring at the picture.

  “Susan? Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?” George waved her hands in front of her face.

  She blinked twice. “It’s nothing.” She picked up the bucket of air they had filled and poured it a bit too quickly into the pots of the plants which lined the left side of the Dining Hall.

  It was nearly five o’clock by the time they finished, which meant she had only a couple of hours to practice her magic before she would have to leave for the Ball.

  Today her aim was try and move objects. Her victim: a feather duster. She figured it had to be light, or she wouldn’t be able to move it at all.

  Placing the innocent red duster on the shelf in front of her in the storage cupboard, she made sure it was at eye level. This time, she didn’t want to use anger; she wanted to control it with her mind devoid of any emotion. She would begin by breaking it, and then try moving it. She let her mind settle on the duster, and she made no movement, no sound. The cool water around her was calm; no ripples disturbed it.

  She imagined the duster snapping into two. She thought of the noise it would make when it would split down its centre. Nothing happened. The duster just stared impassively back at her. She frowned, concentrating harder. This was tougher than she had anticipated. Without anger, she couldn’t reach out to the magic inside her and that was not a good thing. She remembered the calm with which Meaken and Lily used their magic. Why couldn’t she do the same?

  “You better break,” she shot at the duster.

  Once again, she cleared her mind of all her thoughts and emotions and once again wished destruction on the duster. Seconds ticked by but nothing happened. Frustrated, she lunged forward and broke the duster in two with her hands. The splinters that jabbed into her palm were painful reminders of her failure.

  Sighing, she viewed the mess she had created. Obviously, she would still need a little bit of rage and frustration to create magic. Perhaps she would eventually be able to transition to a non-anger zone, but she needed it for now.

  S
he took the smallest piece of cloth she could find and placed it on her fingertips. She imagined Timothy scared, cold, and worried. She pictured him helpless and in pain. Even though it hurt to think of him in such a horrendous situation, it created a flame of anger in her. Immediately, she felt something within her surge, looking for something to latch on to. She imagined the cloth to be those bonds that were tied to her brother’s wrists and imagined it shredding to pieces. Immediately, the cloth tore in half and floated down to the floor. Energy drained out of her body and she bent over, gasping for breath. A triumphant smile played on her lips.

  After resting for a while, she placed another cloth in front of her. This time, the cloth was Timmy. She imagined somebody holding him back while he struggled to be free so he could run towards her. Sooner than the previous time, the cloth surged towards her and she didn’t feel as tired as she had before.

  Twenty minutes later she placed the cloth at one end of the room and she stood at the other end. Would she be able to lift it? Calming her thoughts, Brell tried to extend her mind till she could feel the rough surface of the cloth through the water, without touching it. She knew she was running out of precious time and that sense of urgency made her impatient.

  Shaking herself, she zeroed her eyes on the cloth. She pictured it floating in the air. Each second that ticked by made her more and more panicky because each second felt like a failure that pulled her away from her brother. Her heart beat picked up and she felt abuzz with nervous energy.

  The duster rose an inch. Suddenly everything in the room - the brooms, the maps, the aprons and even the dust particles elevated, staring at her face. All the power and energy rushed out of wide-eyed Brell. She heard the door behind her open, and that distracted her. Everything fell down, and dust billowed all around her, clouding her view.

  “Susan?” a familiar voice whispered. Then Brell blacked out.

  *

  Her head was throbbing. Her arms hurt. She couldn’t feel her tail. Brell groaned and spat out a handful of dust from her mouth. She tried to get up, but found herself too dizzy to do so.